Catching Up
by Starsurfer108
Summary: Max gives a short ride to an old… acquaintance.
Taking a break, Max pulled in to the side of the road, finally locating an extra-long stretch to fit the limo.

His reverie was interrupted as a man came dashing into the back seat. "Drive, now!"

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Max froze as he saw a familiar face. "Yeah, I know the drill," he replied mildly, trying to hide his fear.

Vincent looked up, shocked, as Max pulled away, then went back to scouting the area, seeing if he was being followed.

When they were on the highway, Vincent sat back and relaxed, stretching out. "You know, I'm actually surprised."

"What, that I'm driving a limo?"

"Yup. Didn't think you'd have it in you to buy one."

Max paused. "Well, truth be told, it's not mine. I'm just the driver."

Vincent clenched his jaw and forced a smile, frustrated. "I see. Well, I'm sure with technological advancements, the limos of the future will be able to function so a 90-year-old could drive them."

"Very funny," Max said brusquely. "At least I have a dream and am working towards it."

Vincent's body tensed. "And I do what I do just for fun, is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah, maybe!" Max said, staring into the rear-view mirror.

Vincent's eyes opened wide for a split second, incredulous, and then he went back to casually scouting around.

"Well, go on!" Max said loudly, egging him on.

"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," Vincent replied sarcastically.

Max frowned, not sure how to respond. He'd be surprised if he wasn't already on Vincent's hit list, being able to identify him. But he didn't want to broach the topic just yet.

Vincent gave a sniff. "And you and Annie? Anything came of that?"

"Well, we saw each other for a while. But she was caught up in work, and meetings – she said she just wanted to be friends."

"Friends? What the hell is that?"

"Yeah, I know, right? But what the lady wants, the lady gets. That's how I roll."

"See, that's why you're such a loser. Always going along with what other people tell you to do." Vincent made a 'tsk' sound. "Now take me to the corner of 10th and 2nd."

"You expect me to do that after what you just said?!"

Vincent leaned forward. "Don't worry, Max. Doing what an armed assailant wants you to do doesn't make you lose any more of your masculinity."

Max gave a sniff. "Well, not in the U.S., anyway."

Vincent raised an eyebrow, but looked placated as he could see that Max would comply.

"So are you a clone or something?" Max asked, looking in the rear-view mirror.

Vincent chuckled. "Where was the blood, Max? Wasn't exactly gushing out. But, of course, you'd only know _that_ was a discrepancy if you had an internet connection and access to Wikipedia."

"Internet?" Max asked, confused.

Vincent's eyes snapped to his.

"Hey, I'm kidding," Max said, chuckling.

Vincent looked angry, then pursed his lips and went back to looking at the view.

"My Ma knows how to use the internet, now," Max said almost mournfully. "Every night I spend time on her laptop trying to get rid of viruses from her visiting gay porn sites. I keep telling her not to _do_ that. And you know what? The nurses actually encourage it. Says it keeps her mind _active_."

Vincent smirked, shaking his head. "Your Ma. She's something else."

Max took a deep breath, steeling himself to broach the topic. "Hey. I wanted to thank you for not killing Annie. You liked to have a perfect record, right?"

Vincent grinned. "I still have a perfect record. I killed the people who knew I didn't have a perfect record, at least, the ones who'd be in contact with any future clients of mine. It was easier."

"Easier, right," Max said, a bit disheartened at Vincent's coldness and unsure of where he now stood. "Hey, Annie said it was an unrelated mob war."

"Pfft. You think the only way I can kill someone is a double-tap to the head and chest? Please."

"Well, thank you," Max said, pulling in to the destination. He'd never tried being grateful with Vincent.

"You're welcome," Vincent said, getting out.

"And thank you for not killing _me_."

Vincent stopped walking, and stood still. Then he turned back and leaned through the window.

"What the hell are _you_ going to do? Not brake if I'm crossing the street? I always look both ways when I cross the street, so I'm sure I'll be safe from you."

Max raised an eyebrow bitterly, not liking the pressure, despite his position. "Well, aren't you a good boy."

"Don't try me, Max." Vincent rolled his eyes and walked away.

Max nodded slightly, and relaxed, knowing that Vincent really was sparing him.

As long as he hadn't put a bomb in the fucking limo, that is.


End file.
